


At The Mercy of the Devil

by Toastiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Gen, Kidnapping, Murder, cursing, seedy characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 18:58:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10497468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toastiel/pseuds/Toastiel
Summary: Claire gets herself into a bind. The Morningstar helps her out.





	

Claire groaned as she came to, her head throbbing painfully. That jackass actually drugged her! She couldn’t believe it. Well, she would show him. She opened her eyes slowly, wincing as the faint light burned at her retinas. It wasn’t until she tried to lift her hand to rub at them that she realized she couldn’t move. Well that was just fantastic. ‘Good job, Novak. Way to royally fuck yourself over.’

She struggled for a moment, testing the bonds around her wrists and ankles. When they didn’t give in the least, she let out an angry, frustrated scream. She wanted to cry, a pit forming deep in her gut, but she held back. She wasn’t some scared, helpless little child anymore. She was hunter. She could get out of this. Or she could die. 

Probably the latter.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” a sickeningly sweet voice called from somewhere beyond the light. 

“Whoever, or whatever, the hell you are, just know that when I get free, I’m going to kill you,” she growled. The man laughed and stepped forward. Before she could get a look at him a heavy boot connected with her midsection and she curled in on herself in pain. She was rather proud of herself for keeping quiet, but her moment was ruined as the man’s boot came down hard against her shoulder. A loud cry of pure agony tore from her lips as it was ripped from its socket and she knew she’d felt and heard more that a simple ‘pop’ that came with dislocation. 

“Why?” It was all she could think through the haze of pain. Why was she here? Why was he attacking her? Why had he chosen her for whatever he had planned?

“Why?” He repeated as though the answer were obvious to anyone with half a brain. “Why?! Because, bitch, people like you need to be taught a lesson. You need to be put in your place, and since no one else was willing to do it, I’m taking the job.”

He was close now. Too close for comfort. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as he leaned in towards her. She could feel his warm, acrid breath as it puffed over her face. He smelled of cheap liquor and cigarettes, and something she couldn’t quite place. The scent made her nauseous. She turned away, burying her face as well as she could against the damp dirt floor. The aroma of damp earth helped to drown out his odor and she was immensely grateful for that. 

“You and me, we’re gonna have fun, sweetheart.” 

She wanted to die. Dying was preferable to anything this dirtbag had planned for her. She’d stood a chance before, but not now. Even if she did somehow manage to get free of the bonds, she couldn’t fight him. He was easily twice her size and he’s just happened to have chosen her dominant arm to ruin. She was briefly comforted by the idea that if she did die, at least she would get to see her father again. Her dream was shattered when she abruptly remembered all the stupid, immoral, and just plain horrible things she had done over the years. No, there would be no Heaven for her. She was almost entirely certain she’d end up in Hell.

Hell. She could try calling Crowley, but she didn’t think he picked up on prayers. Castiel, perhaps? No, she didn’t want him to see her like this. Not that she cared for him or anything, she just didn’t want him to see her broken and weak. He’d think he was right in believing she couldn’t hack it as a hunter, then Dean and Sam would find out, and that was a mess she just did not need. She growled softly. What was she supposed to do? Pray to Satan to rescue her ass? That was damn near laughable. 

“You called?” She’d never heard that voice before, but the chill it sent rocketing down her spine gave her a pretty solid idea as to who it belonged to. She struggled to turn over enough to look for the source of it. When she finally managed, she was met with a bored looking man with blond hair and blue eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness. 

“Don’t look so surprised. I might not listen to ‘angel radio’ very much these days, it's much too droll, but I tend to tune in when I hear my name. Makes me feel special.” He gave her a devious grin and a slight shrug of his shoulders. “Now, why in Dad’s name would a hunter be calling for lil’ ole’ me?”

She wanted to glare at him, to tell him to shut up and go away, but he was her only chance of getting out of this mess alive. What was worse was that he knew it, and he was toying with her. Well, wasn’t that just fan-fucking-tastic.

“Seriously?” she asked in a flat tone. Did he not see that she was tied up and injured? Granted, he was the one and only dark prince, but come on, he wasn’t blind or stupid. He smirked and gave her a wink.

“I’m not a mind reader, Claire.” He said holding his hands up a bit and shaking his head. “You’re gonna have to tell me what you need.”

“You’re an idiot.” She said as if she were suddenly noticing the sky was blue or the grass was green. “Lucifer...is an idiot.” 

“Well if you’re just going to be rude, I’ll leave.” He made to snap his finger.

“Wait!”

He gave her an expectant look, one brow raised. “Yes?”

“I...could you…” He seemed to enjoy watching her struggle. She closed her eyes and huffed out a breath. “Help me, please? This guy’s a lunatic. He wants to kill me. I can’t…”

“All you had to do was ask.” He rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh. He snapped his fingers and just like that she was free of her bindings and whatever cellar the madman had been keeping her in was a distant memory. Now if only the pain were gone. 

“I charge double for healing.” He wagged his brow and ran his bifurcated tongue over his lips.

Claire groaned. ‘Well, fuck.’


End file.
